“You became a teacher instead,” I whispered.
“Yep, I saw what the oil industry had done to my dad. It ate him up fast and consumed every part of his life. It wasn’t what I wanted.” He shook his head back and forth.
“I’m certainly glad you became a teacher.” It was awkward to say, considering my relationship with him outside of Wesley. I rubbed at my ear and scratched the back of my head. A lump sat perched in the back of my throat.
“Me, too. I’m sorry if I sound selfish. I don’t mean to, I just want you to know my family isn’t as perfect as it appears to be.” He grabbed my hand and spread my fingers with his as he held them tight.
“I know, that Calvin. He’s a piece of work!” I leaned against him and smiled wide, attempting to lighten the mood.
“Well, he’s his own worst enemy when it comes to people skills.” He cleared his throat and ran his hands through his hair. “The fact that our father asked Camille’s husband, Dan, to help run the company and didn’t offer it to Calvin made their relationship a lot worse. He’s pretty bent about that.” He looked at me; his eyes constricted and filled with pain for his brother.
“That must’ve devastated him.” The lump I’d cleared seconds ago clogged the back of my throat again.
“Yeah, and Cal is the type who acts like it doesn’t bug him. But I know it’s eating him alive. I do as much as I can to keep him involved with the family. One day he’s just going to leave and not come back, and that’s gonna crush my mom.”
“As sad as it sounds, I know how that feels.” I pulled the comforter up and tucked it under my arms to cover my chest.
He stroked down the inside of my arm with his fingers, tangling them around my hand as he lifted my wrist to the tip of his nose. He inhaled and pressed his lips to the delicate part of my wrist. The temperate air breezed cold across my skin as he pulled away. He looked into my eyes and I knew—if he could—he would heal me.
We lay tangled together watching the bottomless orange sun rise up over the snow-covered, rolling hills glimmering outside my window. My voice was hoarse and my throat was dry from talking with him all night. The edges of my eyelids stung from the thin, crisp morning air and lack of rest. Unfortunately, we couldn’t keep the morning from coming.
“What time is your flight today?” Max leaned over me.
“I don’t know. I’ll grab my ticket.” I pressed my hand over my mouth as I answered. I didn’t want to scare him off with my morning breath. I shifted my legs to the side of the bed and was just about to roll up when he held me down, pushed my hand away, and gave me a light kiss.
“Oh my God, Max, my breath is so bad.” I grabbed his hoodie from the floor and slipped it on. He caught my waist and pulled me back to the bed.
“I don’t care, you smell good to me.” He kissed me, deep and slow. The self-conscious thoughts of my stenchy breath evaporated instantly. His hand pulled at the zipper of the hoodie I’d just put on. My hands curved around his ears, my fingertips curling into his messy black hair. The ticket could wait.
He slipped his hand past the open zipper on my hoodie; I lost my breath. He was ready for our last moment together before we had to return to the Bay Area. I pulled away from him—the perfect opportunity to tease him one last time. Standing on the bed by his feet, my hoodie fell open just enough to show the curves of my breasts.
“Okay, so what are you willing to do to get me to take this off?” I held the front collar of his hoodie in my fists.
“Hmm, how about kiss your feet?” He grabbed my ankle.
“I don’t know, that doesn’t seem like a fair trade, what else you willing to do?” I shifted my feet.
“This.” He pulled my ankle and I went down screaming. As quickly as I fell, his hands slipped under the bottom of my hoodie. Navigating across my stomach, clutching at my waist, he slid me down to even out our bodies. My hair trailed behind me and my hoodie pulled up to expose my stomach.
“That’s really unfair. I’m not as strong as you,” I complained before he tasted my pouting lips. He was such a good kisser. Chills rippled through my body as he bit my lower lip, causing my mouth to open for him to explore.
“Sorry, you’re a weakling. Survival of the fittest right?” he said, his lips slightly touching mine. I let out a low whimper.
The handle on the door shook and I heard Cindy’s voice through the solid wood door.
“What the hell? What’s she doing locking the door. It’s not like she went out last night and brought some random guy home. Frickin’ Wilson.” Her hand banged heavy against the door.
We froze, staring at each other listening to what she was doing. Her voice trailed off as she moved down the hall and yelled for Nick. We broke the silence with laughter. It was the first time we weren’t stressed out by her. I think the chair wedged under the door handle had something to do with it.
“Did she just curse me?” I turned to look at the door then back at him for his answer, trying not to smile.
“Yeah, I think she did. And she called me some random guy.” He twisted his face to look pissed before he broke with the smile that always captured my heart.
“Well at least we’re frickin’ random.” I went to grab my ticket. I guess it would be good to see what time we were going to leave today. “What time is it?” I pulled open the top drawer of the dresser and found my ticket. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand.
“It’s a quarter to seven.” He slid the phone open and checked his messages.
“My flight leaves at 3:15,” I rambled to him.
“That doesn’t leave much time. You’re a little over four hours away from the airport.” He flipped the covers off and collected his clothes off the ground.
“How much time do we have?” I laid the ticket on the dresser next to me. Reality hammered down solid against my expectations and I flushed with panic. I hadn’t thought about the travel time and the extra two hours you have to allow for check-in.
“You need to leave by nine.” He slipped his shirt over his head and reached for the Levi’s he’d tossed on the bed.
His words burned harshly in my head. The regret scraped down my throat as I swallowed. Just throw me down on a sharp, prickly cactus—probably would have been less agonizing. I had less than two hours before I had to leave and, of that couple of hours, Cindy would monopolize ninety-five percent. All I’m left with is right now to create a memory that will sustain both of us until we can be together again.
It was the uncertainty of our future that kept me on edge. How are we going to sneak time together? Can I hide my feelings for him while in his class? How will I react when other girls flirt with him? Seriously, less than thirty-six hours ago, I didn’t even know if he would have recognized me outside of class. Now, in less than two days, we are full-on making out.
“Wilson? Earth to Wilson.” He slipped his hands around my waist, shifting me as he searched my eyes.
God, when he looks at me with his curious eyes, I shiver and melt. If he ran his fingers through his hair one more time, I swear I’d never leave this room.
“Wow, you were just completely somewhere else.” He pressed his hands to the sides of my face. “Where did you go?” He pulled my attention to him and smiled.
“School on Monday.” I bit my lip, trying to stop from showing him how stressed I was about leaving Aspen.
“Monday, huh? How do I bring you back to right now? I don’t want to lose you to some experience we haven’t even lived yet.” His eyes danced around my expression, soaking up every uncertain thought that flowed across my lips.
“How are we going to be in class together without totally blowing it? I can’t look at you without everyone in that room seeing how I feel.” I lowered my head and dropped my eyes from his.
“We’ll have to figure that out on Monday.” He pulled up on my chin and kissed me. He lived in the here and now and knew how to bring me right back.
I ran my hands through his jet black hair and he dropped his ha
nds around my waist, pulling me close. His aroma bathed my mind with want, and his taste pulled at my desires. It was his instinctive, masculine growls that hurled me over the edge. With all my strength, I pushed him to shuffle back and drop onto the bed. I wanted to make sure he left with one last piece of our Aspen that would keep him interested and wanting more. He flipped me onto my back, his lips tracing the outline of my chin up to my ear.
“You make it so hard to wait,” he whispered.
“Twenty-eight days,” I reminded him as I ran my hands up his back under his T-shirt.
“I’m counting the days,” he answered.
I heard the lock on the door knob turn and twist. Cindy had gotten the frickin’ key to unlock my room! My limbs ran cold and chills flooded my entire body. She pushed on the door but it didn’t budge. The chair did exactly what it was supposed to do. Max was in the closet within seconds.
“Wilson. What the hell is going on? Did you block the door? Open this now!” She pounded on the door.
“I’m coming. You have to close the door first.” I pushed against the door, looked back at the closet to make sure he was in it, and dragged the chair out from under the door knob. When I opened the door, Cindy pushed past me hoping to catch whoever she was sure I was hiding.
“What in the hell did you do? Why would you need to blockade yourself in this room? Where is he?” She looked out the window and pushed the curtains back looking for my ‘mystery man.’
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cindy. I’ve been alone. I heard strange noises last night, I was the only one here, and I got freaked out.” I followed her to the other side of the room.
“You wedged a frickin’ chair against your door because you were freaked out? Why didn’t you text me? I would’ve gotten Nick to check on you,” she was serious.
How sad was our friendship? If that’s what you would call our association. She’d send her brother to see if I was okay? God forbid she would leave a club—or drinks, or a guy—for me. I was her failed project and she was my ticket to Max. That was the extent of our parasitic relationship.
“I’m sorry, I should have called you.” I tried to move her toward the door but she plopped on the bed. She wasn’t going anywhere until she told me what she had to say.
“Oh, Wilson, there were so many hot guys last night. You could’ve had your pick and there still would have been leftovers for seconds.” She smiled wide and bounced up and down on the bed.
“Sorry I missed it. My head feels better, though.” I rubbed the gash up by my hairline. It hurt when I touched it. Visions of Max’s family flashed in my head. They never said anything about it; I guess it really wasn’t that bad.
“Where did you get that necklace? I’ve never seen you wear it before.” She plucked the heart charm up from my skin and pushed her head close to my neck.
I swallowed and felt my blood speed through my veins. I pushed my hand to hers and took over holding it. I didn’t want her to touch it and tarnish the feelings it held for me.
“This is the first time I’ve worn it. That’s probably why you’ve never seen it before.” I pulled the chain across my chin and pressed the charm to my lips. The tiny key dangling in the middle of the heart tickled at my lips as it moved.
“Was it your grandma’s? Did your grandpa give it to you after she died?” She acted involved. The one time I hoped she would brush me off she became interested in my life.
“Something like that. Hey, what time do we need to get out of here?” I struggled to engage in a meaningless conversation with her. I went to the dresser and started pulling out my clothes.
“We should be on the road by nine, nine-thirty at the latest.” She held up one of my shirts. “Wilson, I’m sorry I left last night. I probably should have stayed with you.” She balled it up and tossed it back onto the bed. What a big step for her. She doesn’t admit to very many wrong doings, especially this type.
“Don’t worry about it. Not really worth thinking about. I survived. No permanent damage done, right?” I started folding my clothes. I didn’t want to make it a big deal; I just wanted her to leave so Max could come out of the closet.
“You’re so right. You handled it. Crazy to prop a chair under your door knob, but who am I to say?” She must have talked to her dad; for some reason, anytime she talks to him she adjusts back to the “bearable” Cindy.
“You talk to your dad this morning?” I pulled at the next drawer down.
“Yeah, he is coming into Denver around one o’clock. I told him we’d meet him and have lunch.” She stood up, waiting for me to argue.
“Okay, sounds good.” I snapped my jeans in front of my body and continued to fold them.
“Oh-kay—so you keep packing. I’ll tell Nick to have the car ready by nine o’clock sharp.” She held up my black lacy bra and spun it around her finger before dropping it back onto the bed. “Nice, Wilson.”
My face burst red as the heat flushed to my cheeks. Why does she do that to me? I followed her and shut my door. I didn’t wait to prop the chair under my door handle again.
“You can come out. She’s gone,” I whispered before I pulled the door open. His hair was tousled and messy with random pieces across his face. His smile—so wicked—rose to his eyes as they convinced me to join him in the huge, livable walk-in closet.
“She left, but I have a feeling it won’t be for long,” I told him as he wrapped his hands around me and spun me to the bench in the center of the closet.
“If I had known this room existed, mmmm, what fun we could have had.” He sat me down on the bench and crouched down between my legs.
“Max? What are you doing?” I asked before he kissed me.
“Close your eyes,” he told me, kissing my eyelids.
He left me sitting there. Cool air wrapped around me as he passed behind. Weight pressed against the crown of my head; a rush of air swooshed around my face as something tickled my neck.
“Open your eyes.” I looked at him: he had taken off his shirt and was wearing a huge, black cowboy hat.
“Mmm, you make one hot cowboy.” I grabbed at the waist of his jeans, pulling him closer to me. “It’s this I worry about.” I looked at the full-length mirror at the other end of the closet. I had on a pink cowboy hat with maroon-dyed feathers across the front. Tiny clear and pink beads created a pattern of zigzags covering the lower part of the feathers. Around my neck was wrapped a deep blue feather boa. I raked my hands up and down across the space in front of my head and shoulders.
“Really? A pink cowboy hat—really?”
“It’s that or the bright orange Caltrans beanie I found.” He reached across me and snatched it up. The fact that he had it next to me means he’d actually considered putting that thing on my head.
“You made the right choice.” I wrapped my arms over the hat and held it to my head.
He backed away and swung the beanie in circles on his finger, the muscles in his stomach flexing and relaxing under his perfect skin. I didn’t even notice when he tossed the beanie across the closet. All I saw was his body move and I was hooked. I’d be his cowgirl, Caltrans worker, or whatever else he wanted me to be if he would just keep moving for me.
He tilted his hat and held his hand out to mine. “Ma’am, would you honor me with a dance?” He caught my hand and pulled me up from the bench.
“Why, I don’t dance with cowboys.” I told him in my best southern accent as I fluffed the end of the boa at him.
“Well, it’s a good thing I’m not a cowboy.” He pulled me against his bare chest and my hand pressed firmly there before I slipped it up behind his neck and tangled my fingers in the back of his hair. With his hand around my waist, his other covering mine against his chest, I felt his body sway and push against me. I swear I could hear music.
We danced to a whole song in my head. Our bodies, sexy and smooth, fit as one. His rhythm tamed me and his smell intoxicated my senses. The deep, rumbling breaths he took as we moved vibrated thro
ugh my body, awakening a desire so profound; if he asked me to make love to him I would, without hesitation, take a chance and live with the consequences. Bring. It. On.
I felt his phone chime with a text.
“It’s Cal. He’s at the gate.” He held me tight against his body. My arms tightened around him. I wasn’t ready to let go.
“How are you going to escape?” The words hurt as their edges scraped at my throat.
“Nick gave Cal the code. I need you to keep Cindy busy while I leave.” His breath chilled my ear. Why couldn’t his words get tangled in my hair for awhile? Just long enough so I could feel his kiss once more before he left.
“I’m not ready for this. Don’t leave,” I whispered. His hands navigated up to my head as he pulled away, waiting for me to open my eyes. He stared at me, studying every bump and curve of my face.
“Wilson, trust me, I will not let this go.” His eyes shifted back and forth, watching me, as he drew close for our last kiss.
I don’t know if it was because of the anticipation of the weekend coming to an end or the pure want that fluxed through my body, but his touch was extra sweet. With just enough sour to make me ache.
I knew I would still see him every day, and that those every days would be different. It wasn’t that. I didn’t want us to change. I didn’t want to watch all the Bonnies and Jackies gushing over him. I wanted them to know he was with me.
“Max, I want to trust you. I really do, but how can one weekend convince you to wait for me? What happens when you decide—I’m not worth it?” Insecurities tumbled from my mouth. His face drained white, his eyes narrowed, and the muscles in his neck flexed roughly as he swallowed what I’d said. I ran him over with a cement truck filled with every rock-hard moment of my life when I’ve felt like I wasn’t worth it.
“It hasn’t been just a weekend for me, Wilson. I’ve wanted you for so long. I fought off the thoughts every day, exhausting every option to keep you off my mind; I can’t do it anymore. I want you right here.” He pressed his fingers to his chest, “All the time.”
The Wilson Mooney Box Set Page 21
